Kerry
by clo123456
Summary: After loosing the one you love how do you move in? You can't. At least not without help. But what happens if after you've found a new love and a new life, the first love comes back.
1. Chapter 1

Thistle for protection. Rosemary for remembrance. Rose for purity. Honeysuckle for generosity. Iris for wisdom. Juniper for eternity. Daisy for innocence. Carnation for engagement.

I chose not to add forget-me-nots which also mean remembrance. Apparently a young man drowned while picking forget-me-nots for his lover. Forget-me-not were his last words and that's why they were so named…

I chose not to pick those flowers and add them to my bouquet because they made his death so true and me so selfish.

All he ever wanted to do was to make me happy… why did I refuse?

"We are gathered here today to commemorate…"

The floor had been cleaned before the funeral. It was shinny enough that I could almost see my face reflected back at myself. I could tell it was made of some type of wood but I hadn't paid attention enough in woodwork to understand what type it was.

"And now we are going to sing Amazing Grace"

All around me voices erupted into song, torturing me with the pain which was laced in their tone. They ruined it. None of the crowd were good singers and it was atrocious, the women were too high and the men were too low but when some tried to switch roles all that could be heard was a screechy sound.

_He wouldn't like this._

"His mother, Amelia Kong, is now going to say a few words"

Amelia had hated me. Probably still does. She had been sure that I was going to take her son away from her so that's why she was always rude. However one day enough was enough and he left because of the way she treated me. So in the end it was her who made her son leave her, she had pushed him away.

_He still loved his mother._

"Are you ok?"

This time it wasn't the priest who had spoken, it was my dad and he had placed a hand on my shoulder in a caring manner. Unwanted sympathy emanated from his touch however I knew it would upset him if I tore his hand off me.

Was I ok? No. Could I ever be ok? Probably not.

But I couldn't say this too him, I could tell my behaviour was upsetting him bad enough already. So instead I tried to flash a smile but it didn't come out right and by the look on his face it made matters worse.

His hand dropped off my back and he slumped in his seat before turning away from me. I counted the tears running down his cheeks, admiring each and every one of them. How could he cry when I couldn't?

_He had always admired my dad._

I began to wriggle in my seat in an attempt to fight off the numbness that this position was causing. None of the seats were cushioned and the building was too cold for me to take my coat off and sit on it. I kept wriggling but none of the positions I wriggled into reduced the numbness. I wondered idly if the numbness was caused by uncomfortable seats or the heavy burden of loss.

The building became silent as the priest left and I wondered what was happening. I was too detached to realise that the ceremony was over and the burying was about to commence.

Everyone began moving, fighting to get to the door. After everyone was out there would be a fight to get closest to the gravestone and the priest, so they will be able to hear the priest's words over the roaring wind.

I wanted to be closest to the gravestone yet standing up was such a hard task. My dad had to help me stand then he wrapped his arm around me as support. Everyone followed the priest in a line through the foggy, muddy graveyard paired up with their loved ones and sobbing endless tears. Everyone except me.

_If he was here he would be laughing, wondering why everyone was so distraught when it was only him who had died._

Amelia was stood with her seventh husband whom she had married recently, in a wedding her son hadn't been invited to. People kept walking up to her and hugging her telling her how sorry they were. No-one had come up to me. Perhaps I looked disrespectful dressed in a bright red dress whilst everyone else was in black.

_He had always said I looked pretty in it, 'his favourite colour on his favourite girl.'_

People threw soil onto the coffin whilst saying their last words. But I didn't move, even though my father probed me to. There was no point in saying anything, what is the likelihood he would hear?

The coffin was lowered into the ground, he was returned to the earth.

I had the only dry eyes in the place but I wasn't proud of this. People moved and started to leave but I stood still.

The truth was his death still hadn't hit me and I refused to believe he was gone. I always thought that if something happened to him I would feel it but I hadn't felt anything so how could he be… dead?

Exactly he couldn't be.

All through his funeral I had been trying to ignore the priest and focus on the smaller details because I wouldn't let myself focus on the huge possibility that he'd left me. He wouldn't, he'd promised me that he wouldn't.

That was why I wouldn't cry and I refused to wear black. This wasn't a mourning session it was a simple mistake. An easy mistake which happens plenty of times… Right? Please tell me I'm right… This can't be happening.


	2. Chapter 2

I lay in bed under my covers. I wasn't going to move until I was dead. I had decided. I had planned. Maybe it would be form starvation, dehydration or even exhaustion (as if I could relax enough to sleep). But it was definite that no one would care. Yes my dad does come up to check on me every once in a while but after all the horrible things I've said to him, he'll be glad.

I have already planned my funeral out and the instructions are in between my mattress and bed frame. It's sticking out a bit so when they come to move my dead body I'm positive someone will see it and pull it out.

I hope heavens like what they said and all the lies are actually truth. I will see Derrick again and we can be together forever. Basked in eternity with riches and jewels, everything we could ever want. Life would just be a mere joke we would laugh about.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. It was a rough tap, hard and repetitive. One which echoed around my room and in my ears so there's no way I could miss it. I knew who it was before they opened the door, it was my only visitor. My dad, again.

"Kerry, stop moping around and get out of bed. It's been three weeks since the funeral and you haven't even seen the town, or got out of bed" He muttered the last part quietly, but I still heard him.

Dad went and opened the curtains allowing light to filter in through the window and straight into my eyes. It illuminated the dust which covered my floor and my bed sheets which had patterns of cleanliness where footprints and handprints have touched them.

My reply to my father was merely burrowing further into my duvet. I didn't want to see the world and I didn't want the world to see me. I could already imagine the voices all of different pitches bitching about me behind my back. They wouldn't feel sorry for me because no one knows me here. I'd be the tramp, who mopes and barely speaks.

"Kerry, I'm warning you. If you don't get out of bed soon then I'll make you!"

How? How will he make me cause nothing could be worse than the pain which binded me and still binds me to this bed.

"Please…"

It was a plea, a beg but I couldn't get out this bed not even for my dad who had done so much for me. For me he had abandoned his job, his house, his friends and even his pets. He helped me move from my old home in San Francisco to La Push, well actually he did all the moving I did nothing. You could argue that all this stuff is his job as my dad and perhaps it is? But it's still pretty harsh, him giving up everything for me. Harsh and pointless.

"Look, I know how hard this is for you, when I lost your mother I wanted to lock myself in the cellar and become a mute, but I didn't. I pulled through for you and your brother and because of that I managed to move on!".

He doesn't understand. It was different for him, he had mum for thirty years I only had Derrik for three. Three years which could have been better spent if I knew.

"Right that's it. I did warn you"

Before I had chance to react he had one of my feet in each of his hands. The ceiling passed above me at a quick rate as my body hit the floor. I pulled myself up onto my feet and shot a glare at my dad before aiming to dive back under the bed covers. Before I had chance to even turn he had both hands on each of my arms.

"I tell you what I'll make a deal. There's a barbeque today and we've been invited. If you go then I promise you can come back here and mope all you want"

Dad was a man of logic and I knew he had a reason for making such a big promise, but then again it would be nice to lie down without his continuous attempts to drag me out of bed. A barbeque would be worth the peace.

"Fine" My voice came out all croaky and didn't sound like me.

"I'll get you a drink" Dad grinned at me before walking out of the room, he also didn't like to show his emotions so I didn't expect a hug and an 'I love you'.


End file.
